Monthly Archives: May 2009

We are not “gun people.” Let me start over. What I mean to say is that my husband and I are not gun people. Our son, apparently is. The neighborhood kids (ALL of them!) are gun people, and have toy squirt guns, paint ball guns, cowboy pistols, cap guns, bb guns, etc. We have never bought Woob a toy gun and really didn’t want to start, though it seems there’s something deep seeded and primal about his want of one.

What are your thoughts?

Is it in boys’ very nature to want to play with guns, so it shouldn’t be fought?

Is it okay for kids to play with guns at the neighbors’ houses even if we don’t like them at home?

Should gun use away from our own home be stopped?

Should we just get over and register for a “Family Fun with Guns” safety course at our nearest neighborhood shooting range?

Okay. So I get it that people don’t really have great filters between their brains and their mouths. I get it that a lot of people don’t “get” how adoption works, especially open adoption. I get it that people probably think we’re crazy to have relationships (friendly ones, even!) with Woob’s first family. I do.

So when someone pops out with the tired old, “aren’t you afraid his mother or whatever you call her will come back and take him,” I’m pretty confident with my response. When the same someone, upon finding that Woob has two sisters, implies that my son’s first mother has questionable morals by labeling her “loosey goosey,” I get a little pissed and less friendly. When that same someone, in a totally different and unrelated part of our time spent together, discloses that she discovered her OWN son’s secret stash of condoms, but somehow infers that this is okay, I want to scream!!

Let’s recap, shall we?

Teen girl + sex + pregnancy = slut

Teen boy + sex + unknown results (he could have 10 kids out there for all we know!) = okay/normal

We won’t debate here today about whether or not teens should be having sex at all–that’s another post. We won’t debate anything related to birth control and responsibility because we all know people who use birth control and got pregnant, and we also know people who purchase condoms that don’t use them, so we shouldn’t make assumptions.

But I have to defend my girl, here– The only reason she’s been deemed “loose” in this scenario, is because she’s got the living, breathing proof that she’s done the deed. NEWSFLASH: There are young girls and boys who sleep around all over town who DON”T get pregnant, and if your son is one of them, then don’t go judging and making assumptions about other people.

Last night after bath time, I was combing Woob’s hair and he was watching in the mirror. I commented on how handsome he looked, and he smiled, and in that little, sweet tone that projects wonder and awe said, “oh, and I look like a ballerina!!”

We have new neighbors with the cutest little kids. A boy who’s 11, another boy who’s 8 and a little pixie of a girl who’s five. Mom and dad are very nice, neighborly folks. No problem, right? WRONG.

I have a little three year old who loves to play outside, and in-between bouts of rain (which, incidentally, I don’t think will EVER stop), occasionally gets to do so. We cannot come home from work/daycare, go out to play, get the newspaper, grill out, cut the grass, ANYTHING, without these children swarming upon us. They LOVE playing with Woob, especially the 5 and 8 year old. The 8 year old, Bobby, is freckle-faced, energetic and daring. Woob idolizes him. Bobby does skateboard tricks in the street, rides his bike in the street, runs in the street, etc. Woob is not allowed in the street, and is rather pissed off about it. Bobby is rough and wants to pick Woob up, tackle him, throw balls towards him and generally roughhouse with him, even though he’s twice as big. Bobby wants to play with Woob’s outdoor toys (and is happy to share his own, which consist of lots and lots of GUNS), but is generally tough on them and uses them for purposes unintended. Woob idolizes Bobby. Afterall, even when Woob hasn’t had supper yet, Bobby offers him popcicles and ice cream and such, putting me in the position of being a mean mommy or spoiling his dinner (AND having to use a gallon of stain-fighter). Its gotten to the point that when we drive into the garage coming home, we automatically close the garage door so we can escape undetected to the inside before the attack. The other day, me and Woob stayed home on a weekday, and it was such a nice day that I took him outside right after lunch. Woob said, “can I play with Bobby?” and I replied, “well, no, Bobby’s at school.” And as God is my witness, as soon as we got outside and I uttered those very words, along came the school bus because it was a HALF DAY OF SCHOOL, and Bobby bounded off the bus and went in for the kill. And I spent the next hour supervising making sure no one got hurt, nothing got broken, and generally telling Bobby to “put him down, please.” I will add that the sheer fact that Woob is out playing, attracts the kids next door, and then when the OTHER neighborhood kids see there’s a “party” going on at our house, then THEY come to play too. Next thing you know, its me sitting out watching six kids playing, and no other parent in sight.

I miss the days when I could sit in my chair under the shade tree and watch Woob play happily in the yard. I miss the days when I had only one child to fuss at. I have become That Neighbor. The Grouchy Neighbor Who Doesn’t Want Kids in Her Yard.